The Thought-reader Of Angels Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Reported By Truthful James	A
	-
	-
We hev tumbled ez dust	B
Or ez worms of the yearth	C
Wot we looked for hez bust	B
We are objects of mirth	C
They have played us old Pards of the river they hev played us for	D
all we was worth	C
	-
Was it euchre or draw	E
Cut us off in our bloom	F
Was it faro whose law	E
Is uncertain ez doom	F
Or an innocent Jack pot that opened was to us ez the jaws of the	C
tomb	F
	-
It was nary It kem	G
With some sharps from the States	H
Ez folks sez All things kem	G
To the fellers ez waits	H
And we'd waited six months for that suthin' had me and Bill Nye in	I
such straits	H
	-
And it kem It was small	J
It was dream like and weak	K
It wore store clothes that's all	J
That we knew so to speak	K
But it called itself Billson Thought Reader which ain't half a	C
name for its cheek	K
	-
He could read wot you thought	L
And he knew wot you did	M
He could find things untaught	M
No matter whar hid	M
And he went to it blindfold and smiling being led by the hand like	N
a kid	M
	-
Then I glanced at Bill Nye	O
And I sez without pride	M
You'll excuse US We've nigh	O
On to nothin' to hide	M
But if some gent will lend us a twenty we'll hide it whar folks	P
shall decide	M
	-
It was Billson's own self	Q
Who forked over the gold	M
With a smile Thar's the pelf	Q
He remarked I make bold	M
To advance it and go twenty better that I'll find it without being	R
told	M
	-
Then I passed it to Nye	O
Who repassed it to me	S
And we bandaged each eye	O
Of that Billson ez we	S
Softly dropped that coin in his coat pocket ez the hull crowd	M
around us could see	S
	-
That was all He'd one hand	M
Locked in mine Then he groped	M
We could not understand	M
Why that minit Nye sloped	M
For we knew we'd the dead thing on Billson even more than we	S
dreamed of or hoped	M
	-
For he stood thar in doubt	M
With his hand to his head	M
Then he turned and lit out	M
Through the door where Nye fled	M
Draggin' me and the rest of us arter while we larfed till we	S
thought we was dead	M
	-
Till he overtook Nye	O
And went through him Words fail	T
For what follers Kin I	O
Paint our agonized wail	T
Ez he drew from Nye's pocket that twenty wot we sworn was in his own	U
coat tail	T
	-
And it WAS But when found	M
It proved bogus and brass	V
And the question goes round	M
How the thing kem to pass	V
Or if PASSED woz it passed thar by William and I listens and	M
echoes Alas	V
	-
For the days when the skill	W
Of the keerds was no blind	M
When no effort of will	W
Could beat four of a kind	M
When the thing wot you held in your hand Pard was worth more than	X
the thing in your mind	M

Bret Harte

The Thought-reader Of Angels Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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